Melting the Ice
by bubblybunnybabe
Summary: All he wanted was to steal the one thing his traitorous son loved most. It seemed simple at first, but nothing in life is that easy. [#MaizaiMonday, oneshot, AU.]


**_Just lemony goodness. Fire Nation wins AU, Maizai arranged marriage, for the prompt 'inferno'._**

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 **Melting the Ice**

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He did not want to see her bruised and bleeding and broken.

That was abnormal for two reasons. The first was that he wanted to sleep with her. The second was that he wanted to destroy his son. Both of those things ultimately should lead to her bruised and bleeding and broken but the thought almost revolted him instead of the opposite.

She was sitting there with cold eyes. Not vacant—far from it—but icy.

It was their wedding night and he did not know how he waited so long for this. He would have just taken it but she was very young and very far from ready for that.

He was not being weak; he was being honorable.

And the first time they were together, she was like ice. He was certainly not going to melt it, even with the inferno inside of him as he relentlessly fucked her.

She was a virgin and he wanted to think he had stolen that from his son. Not enough. Certainly, it had some significance to take that permanently from the traitor he once would have considered a son, but it was not not enough for him.

And it was very unsatisfying, and not just because of her lack of experience.

The second time they were together, she was again like ice.

This time, he melted her in a way that he did not intend.

She had tears rolling from her eyes and he knew that it was exactly the same as bruised and bleeding and broken.

"Do you want to be doing this?" he asked, because her tears meant too much.

She did not cry. He did not want to see her cry.

Even if, yes, it did feel like he had influenced her in a way no other person could. He made a girl who never cried cry but it was not the exact sensation he was seeking.

"No," replied Mai, turning her face away.

"Then I can wait," he said, as he would never find that exact satisfaction if she was miserable eternally. "I have you for a lifetime, don't I?"

He did not have her, but he tried to tell himself that. He would not have her until she was begging him, screaming his name, melting for him like she never would for Zuko.

The third time they were together, he could not wait anymore.

She was very beautiful, even though she did not try to be. Maybe she was more beautiful because she did not try to be.

Mai was ice. The unidentified desire was still not fulfilled.

The fourth time they were together, she was a different kind of cold.

It was a forced indifference.

That did little for him.

The fifth time they were together, he knew what he was looking for.

She lay back, her lips slightly parted, her eyes frigid.

He traced his fingers along her naked body. She shivered when he brushed his hand against her breast, but he had touched her a thousand times that way. It was not as if she had never curled her toes or repressed a moan.

Ozai knew what he was looking for—or at least thought he did—and pressed gently against the nub of flesh between her legs. He had touched her, she had not responded much beyond an involuntary motion. No, he would not settle for that, and he circled his thumb around.

Fiercely, he did make her writhe a bit but it was not until he shifted to a very fierce diagonal motion and she gasped. Mai hated herself for that, but it was better than the moan she was trying to hold back. She did moan. More than once.

She shuddered when she came.

Despite the soreness when he pressed against her, she wanted to feel it again more than she had ever wanted anything else.

The repeat performance was stronger.

And the next, he slowed down right when she was about to go over the edge.

She clutched the blankets and ground her teeth and she finally did whimper, "Ozai," and that was what he was looking for.

Or so he thought. It was certainly satisfying.

Again and again and when he could not continue any longer, he finally slid into her.

That had to be it. Had to be what he wanted.

When he climaxed they caught their breath and lay there in bed.

As he looked at her afterward, he had the feeling he did when other girls were bruised and bleeding and broken. She was glowing, but she was cold to him.

Mai turned away and pulled blankets over her when she saw him looking at her.

She was still ice, even if he thawed her.

He was satisfied in that he made her want him more desperately than he ever wanted her. That was challenging.

But he had not stolen her yet.

He had not satisfied that vague new desire.

The next morning, he was woken by someone shaking his arm. That would usually end poorly for a person, but he was woken by Mai.

Her hair was an attractive mess of dark curls, lying over the deep red pillow. Her strong, slender thigh was draped over his hip, and her soft, little hand was stroking him; he was almost fully hard already and he did not even notice.

This was unexpected. He tried to think through the possibilities of why she would be doing this, but he could not think anymore because she breathed in his ear, "I didn't want last night to be over."

He took her by the hips and they twisted and she sank onto him while she did not hold back a moan for the first time. She had decided to stop caring and it was very relieving. He felt how she welcomed him inside, so wet and tight and perfect.

And he knew he would never tire of this like he did with most women because the feeling of disappearing into _her_ mattered more than anything else. He thrusts into her too because he could never _actually_ surrender an ounce of control, but he did quite love the view of her on top of him.

She writhed, her breasts bouncing up and down, and he could not resist reaching his hand out to touch one of them before moving lower to the little numb between her legs to tip her over the edge yet again.

He knew at that moment, she would be his and his only and his completely.

It was hot and hard and fast, which was less difficult and somehow more enjoyable when she was urging it on. She was coming already, coming right now and for the first time screams his name instead of forcing herself not to even think about it.

She let it escape her lips again and again in time with his thrusts and he knew people would hear but he was very fine with the world knowing how much she liked him fucking her.

He drank in every detail of the moaning, flushed, incredibly arousing creature that was the coldest girl he had ever met. The girl made of ice had certainly melted from the way she was coming around him.

She threw her head backwards as the last spasms shuddered through her body and she sank down onto his chest, breathing heavily. He did not give her a moment to catch her breath before turning her around, up on her knees and elbows, and started thrusting into her, this time working furiously towards his own release.

Mai was wet, still shivering from her orgasm, and he knew that desire was finally satisfied.

She did not just want him; she initiated the encounter, she was desperate, she screamed his name, she melted and she was wholly stolen in every single way.

He liked watching the girl made of ice melt much more than he would have ever liked leaving her bruised and bleeding and broken.


End file.
